


Green light

by ILoveFANFic



Series: Blue and Red and Green [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Sex, Because it’s true and we all know it, Bottom Castiel (Supernatural), Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Castiel has a Dean Winchester kink, Color Kink, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Foot Massage, Hand Feeding, Happy Ending, It totally should be, Kinda, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Missionary Position, Oral Sex, POV Castiel (Supernatural), Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Referenced fingering, Riding, Romantic date night, Smut, These two love each other so much it’s ridiculous, Top Dean Winchester, Why isn’t this a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:15:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23465986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ILoveFANFic/pseuds/ILoveFANFic
Summary: Twenty one candles, red wine, bite-size chocolates, massage oil, and a green henley. Cas is about to have the best evening of his life, and he can’t wait for Dean to come home to him.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Blue and Red and Green [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1642318
Comments: 6
Kudos: 97





	Green light

**Author's Note:**

> We're pretty much all going through some hard times right now and it's been kinda difficult for me to feel motivated to do anything creative. I got stuck with the chaptered fic I'm writing, and I thought that maybe working on something shorter would help. So here it is, the third and final installment in this series. Like the previous two fics, it can be read as a stand alone. It's nothing like I thought it would be but I'm not exactly sorry that this fic has turned out like this. Plus, I actually managed to start and finish a fic, and that’s progress, right? 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this and that it can take your mind off of things for a little bit. 
> 
> And I really, really, really hope you can all keep safe ❤️

Cas wishes the trembling of his hands would just _stop_. He doesn’t have much time left before Dean will be home from work, and it would suck spectacularly if his boyfriend were to find him like this.

He’s only halfway through lighting all the candles that he’s strategically positioned around their living room. He needs to light all of them. Not only for ambience, but because he needs to be able to see every single detail of tonight clearly, so he can commit them to memory.

They don’t do this often enough. Sure, they’re sickeningly in love and all their friends love to make fun of them for it, while not so secretly wishing they could find something similar for themselves even knowing that the kind of chemistry, unconditional trust and love Dean and Cas share isn’t that easily found. They aren’t afraid to be very affectionate with each other, constantly hugging each other while they cook, or lounge on the couch at the end of a long working day, playing with each other’s hair, rubbing each other’s back and arms soothingly. When Dean and Cas are in the same room, they’re likely to be touching somehow. So Cas can’t say they don’t cuddle. They do. And sometimes they even manage to make love sweetly, slowly, without falling into the spiral or hunger and desperation that has always characterized their sex life. That uncontrollable need to be inside each other that gets the better of them more often than not and leads them to fuck passionately, roughly, like two lost lovers who haven’t had a chance to be with each other for a decade rather than the boyfriends, who share a house and wake up next to each other every morning, that they are.

But romantic dates, where they light candles, and drink a glass of wine, and make out slowly, leisurely, before exploring each other’s bodies unhurriedly, that they don’t do often. But they will tonight.

Cas can’t wait for Dean to be back, in spite of how his heart has started beating a little faster and his hands still won’t cooperate.

He sucks at keeping secrets and surprising his boyfriend. He’s just socially awkward like that. Dean says he’s “transparent to a fault” and that there’s nothing bad about it. It is, in fact, something Dean appreciates, that makes him feel like Cas is absolutely dependable. Which is not a bad thing per se, Cas knows, but makes him worry that too much dependability might turn into endless boredom in the long run. And the long run is what Cas wants with Dean, and he wants Dean to want it with Cas.

So he’s been plotting tonight for a few days, and has risked spilling the beans on at least twenty-three different occasions. Somehow, he’s managed to not give anything away.

He’s especially proud of his poker face this morning, when he casually suggested Dean that he should wear the emerald green henley Cas bought him some time ago. He played the “it’s light enough that you won’t be too warm but can also keep you comfortable if the temperature drops when you’re going back home tonight” card, and Dean had conceded with his signature ‘that’s not a half bad idea’ face. It was a perfectly reasonable argument for this time of year, when the days start getting warmer but it’s still quite chilly when the sun goes down.

But the truth is, Cas gets more than a little hot under the collar when Dean wears green. He’s never told him, because he knows far too well what a powerful weapon that is, seeing as he uses it against Dean all the time, ever since Dean confessed how needy and desperate he gets when Cas wears blue, or red. Castiel’s groin still tingles thinking about what they did the last time he wore his red leather jacket. But he himself gets unbelievably turned on when Dean wears that emerald green henley, because it compliments Dean’s bottle green and golden eyes so well. And hugs his pecs and shoulders and biceps like a glove, showing off what a solid wall of muscles his beautiful boyfriend is. Cas is the one who gets needy and desperate in that case. And that’s exactly what Cas wants and needs tonight. He wants to be taken, to let go and to know that Dean will catch him, and will love him, always.

He’s finally lighting the last candle, the wine and chocolate already placed strategically next to the massage oil on the small table in front of the couch, next to the pouf Cas will sit on for the first part of the date, and smiling at the mental image of Dean walking through the door with a tired and probably grumpy expression on his face and stopping short the moment he sees what Cas has in store for him.

At the same time he’s now second guessing himself, thinking this is maybe too much, and his nerves are making a million different horrible scenarios flash in his head, including Dean getting back home with his parents or brother for some reason and finding him like that.

He’s actually reconsidering his choice of outfit and wondering whether he should pay a quick visit to his bedroom closet when he hears the key turning in the lock. Too late now. Please let Dean be alone. Please don’t let Mary or John see him like this.

“Cas, you won’t believe-“ Dean, blissfully alone, stops short exactly like Cas expected. God, he’s beautiful. Dean is the most beautiful person that ever existed. And those green eyes, that the damn emerald henley is making pop like it always does, are so _green_ and so wide now. It must have been a long day at work, judging from what Dean was saying and the annoyed expression on his face the stunned look he’s currently sporting has substituted. His right hand is now frozen on his left arm where it was in the process of pulling up the sleeve of his henley. Which doesn’t help one bit, because Dean’s forearms are incredibly distracting, and Cas wants to keep looking at his boyfriend’s expression as he’s taking in the scene in front of him. The dark living room, the only source of light the candles Cas has lit. The wine glass half full with Dean’s favorite red wine on the table – no alcohol for Cas tonight. The plate with bite-size chocolates next to it. The rose scented massage oil. And his boyfriend, completely naked and already half hard, standing in front of the couch and clearly waiting for him.

“Welcome home, Dean. Why don’t you come take a seat on the couch? You must be tired.” Cas is mentally patting himself for uttering the whole piece without letting his voice tremble. He might have rehearsed it a few times just to be on the safe side.

Dean’s clearly wondering what the fuck is going on, like Cas knew he would, but they have an active enough sex life that they are both used to just go with the flow, and do and be whatever the other needs.

And with the flow Dean goes, smoothing out his confused expression and turning it into a pleased one while he starts walking toward the couch.

“The place looks great baby, and so do you. You look,” Dean taking his time to wet his lips while his eyes roam all over Cas’s body and his hands go for Cas’s hips, which can immediately feel Dean’s thumbs start caressing them with circular patterns, makes Cas feel even hotter than he already felt, and makes his cock fill out further, “delectable.”

Cas drops his gaze and he knows, he feels, that his cheeks are in flames. It’s not even an act. He feels exposed and vulnerable and he loves that Dean is taking care of that rather taking advantage of it. He can trust Dean always. Always.

“Thank you,” he says, while still unable to lift his gaze.

Dean knows he is, of course he knows, and lifts Cas’s head with a finger under his chin until their eyes lock. “I love you, Cas. I love you so much.”

Of course Dean would know what Cas needed to hear the most. He smiles, can’t help it, and feels his nerves abate, only excitement remaining.

Still smiling, he tells his boyfriend “Why don’t you sit now, you deserve to relax a bit” before stealing a quick peck. For reassurance. And for the sake of it. Because he can, and because Dean’s lips are the softest, and he wants to kiss them always. Always.

Dean smiles and goes to do just that, while Cas grabs his wine glass and hands it to him. “Here, it’s your favorite.”

“Not that I’m complaining baby, I’m very much not, but what is all this for?”

“Do we need to have a reason?” Cas replies while he takes his seat on the pouf, grabbing ahold of Dean’s left foot to place it on his right knee in one swift motion. “Can’t I just pamper my boyfriend because I feel like it?”

Focusing on unlacing Dean’s boot gives Cas a reason to keep his eyes on what he’s doing rather than on his boyfriend, and Castiel is grateful for that. He’s feeling uncharacteristically shy, out of his comfort zone, and he’s finding it difficult to meet Dean’s eyes. He’s afraid of what he might find there. So when he hears his boyfriend’s breath hitch a little as Cas starts removing his sock and the slight hesitation is his reply “N-no, of course not, feel free to pamper away”, Cas feels relieved and emboldened.

He raises his gaze then and pours as much lust as he can in the look he fixes on Dean when he asks, deliberately a little more sweetly than he normally would, “You don’t like the wine?”

Cas enjoys immensely Dean’s surprised expression when he looks at the glass of wine in his right hand, resting on the couch, as if he had forgotten it was there, as if he had forgotten he even _has_ hands, hyper focused on each little thing Cas is doing like he seems to be. It’s so empowering to be the center of the attention of a man like Dean.

Dean doesn’t reply, not verbally, but brings the glass to his lips and takes a small sip, his eyes never leaving Castiel’s. That’s when he says “I do. I like it very much. Absolutely delicious.”

They both know Dean isn’t talking about the wine.

That makes another wave of heat rush through Cas and he can’t help dropping his gaze again, under the pretense that he needs to focus on Dean’s left foot, while a pleased smile appears on his face. He can hear Dean taking another sip and can _feel_ Dean’s eyes on him. He can only imagine what those green eyes are seeing right now. Cas, completely naked, clearly aroused, loving to be so subservient to his boyfriend, sitting down and in the process of removing his boots and socks, while Dean sits comfortably on the couch, enjoying a glass of wine and looking his fill of the man who’s offering all of himself to him. Cas is well past half hard now.

Once the second sock is out of the picture, he places Dean’s foot on his left knee and grabs the oil. Dean’s pleased sigh in response is the best reward. He drizzles some on his palms, rubs them together to warm it up and gets to work on Dean’s left foot. He spreads the oil around before starting to thumb at the ball of Dean’s foot with enough pressure to knead the sore muscles and help release their tension. A groan and an almost whispered “Fuck, baby, so good” is what that earns him. He keeps himself focused on what he’s doing, trying to give Dean the relaxing and sensual foot rub he’s imagined and not get carried away before the time for him to take the cock he’s earning comes. Which means he makes sure not to ever lift his eyes. If he sees the look of pure ecstasy he knows he’ll find on Dean’s face, while he’s still wearing the damn emerald henley to boot, he’s gonna climb his boyfriend like a squirrel would a tree.

Once he’s satisfied with his job, he goes for the oil again, to pour more on his hands before starting on the other foot. He just glances at the glass very quickly and sees there’s still some wine in it. “Finish your wine, love. It’d be a shame if it went to waste.”

“An absolute shame. We can’t spoil any single detail of the amazing evening my boyfriend has planned for us.”

‘Sneaky bastard,’ Cas thinks, ‘he knows I hate flattery.’ Dean’s trying to see how far he can go.

Very, very far. “I’m glad you think so,” he replies, still as subservient as he’ll ever be. He can’t see it, stubbornly focused as he is on Dean’s feet, but he can very well image the ‘What kind of game is my boyfriend playing?’ look on Dean’s face right now. His lips pressed in a thin line, before he releases them in a pucker, his knitted brow. His vain attempt to be rational and in control enough to analyze the situation objectively. That won’t last. It never does when Cas gets his hands on Dean, or Dean on Cas. The thought makes Cas almost dizzy. They give so much, mean so much, to each other. It scares him and makes him feel blessed at the same time. And Cas wants it to be like that always. Always. 

He repeats the process, massaging Dean’s right foot until he’s satisfied that all the tension has gone, and the oil has been absorbed. Dean’s a puddle of happily smiling goo on the couch, and Cas’s erection, which had somewhat flagged during the relaxing massage, starts filling out again at the thought of what’s to follow.

Dean’s head is resting on the back of the couch, his eyes closed, his face relaxed, the now empty glass held on his left hand. He lifts his head though, when he feels Cas gently bend his legs to put his feet back down on the floor.

Cas stands up and collects the empty glass, so he can place it on the table before grabbing the small plate of chocolates and straddling Dean’s lap.

Cas can’t help but look into his love’s eyes and get lost in them for a few moments. Dean’s hands find their way to his hips in the meantime, unsurprisingly, and start skirting along Cas’s hipbones, ass and back. Slowly, carefully, softly. Just like Cas wanted. Cas loves it, Dean’s hands on his body. He wants to feel them on himself always. Always.

He reminds himself he needs to get with the program, he has a plan in mind after all, and forces his eyes to leave the green beauty they were lost in to gaze at the lips Dean’s currently wetting with the tip of his tongue.

“Here, why don’t you try one of these?”

“I’ve suspected for a while that you have a food kink, you know?” Dean replies on a smirk, before raising his hand to grab one of the chocolates.

“Uh uh,” Cas says while bringing the plate out of Dean’s range and arching a brow to make him understand he needs to stay put. Dean’s hand goes back to Cas’s hip. God, what a power rush. Dean is letting him be in control even when Cas is giving Dean complete control over him. Dean is taking care of it, not taking advantage of it. And Cas knows that’s how is gonna be always. Always.

Cas grabs one of the chocolates and slowly brings it to Dean’s lips, watching avidly as he opens his mouth to let the sweet goodness melt on his tongue. Cas couldn’t tear his eyes away if he wanted. “I have a Dean Winchester kink,” he replies. Always. ‘Especially when you wear green, my love,’ Cas thinks, not yet so far gone that he ends up confessing and handing Dean this nuclear weapon. That is a form of control over him Cas isn’t sure Dean wouldn’t abuse. Cas has showed him often enough how to do just that, after all. 

He revels in the small laugh Dean huffs in reply and seizes the moment to bring another chocolate to those beautiful smiling lips. Dean might be right. Cas might have a food fetish he didn’t know about, because hand feeding Dean is really doing it for him. He’s really not in a hurry to move things along, content to sit on his boyfriend’s lap and enjoy the view of his stunning face full of lust while he obediently eats the food Cas is feeding him. He’s so open and wanting and trusting, Cas feels like a god among men.

“Would you like another one?”

Dean just opens his mouth in reply, mischievous green eyes locked on his. That’s when Cas knows he was wrong just a few moments ago and this will, in fact, be the last chocolate he feeds Dean. This last display of Dean’s trust and eagerness has broken all of Cas’s restraints. He needs to get fucked soon or he’ll go crazy. So he grabs one chocolate and places it on Dean’s tongue, hoping his boyfriend will take the chance to lick on his fingers, which he promptly does. Cas lets Dean’s tongue swirl around his digits for a few moments before taking his hand back and placing it on Dean’s shoulder for leverage. He needs to bend backward to put the plate back on the table and he’d rather not embarrass himself by slipping from Dean’s lap and falling ass first on the floor.

Once that’s taken care of, he resumes his position on top of Dean, brings both hands around his neck and starts kissing him. Slowly, he licks his lips clean of any lingering trace of chocolate. Dean’s hands are back on him, stroking his sides, his back, his ass. He’s as unhurried as Cas is. He’s clearly understood Cas wants this to last and is more than OK with that. Cas urges Dean’s lips open with his tongue, and moans at how much stronger the taste of chocolate is inside of his mouth, where Cas’s tongue is twirling around Dean’s with careful moves, planned to make Dean’s arousal start mounting incrementally. Cas also starts moving his body, creating a fluid rhythm with his tongue and his hips, an ebbing and flow of sensations he wants them to share. When he feels how hard Dean is against his ass and how his hands start tightening against his body, Cas knows he needs to act, before Dean decides to take matters into his own hands. So he breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against Dean’s to take a few breaths and look into the green eyes he loves so, so much. Then he starts pushing himself up, and Dean’s confused frown comes back.

His confusion is replaced by understanding when Cas’s knees hit the floor and he starts unbuckling his jeans. Dean lifts his hips to help him and Cas brings both jeans and underwear down and carefully places them next to himself, away from any burning candles. He then grabs the hem of Dean’s henley and starts pulling it up. He would have loved for Dean to keep it on, but they learnt a long time ago none of them is a fan of keeping their clothes on during sex. Once again, Dean helps by raising his arms to allow Cas to take it off of him. Cas places it on top of the rest of Dean’s clothes and then bends down, taking Dean’s cock into his mouth without any preamble.

“Oh fuck, baby, yeah.” Dean’s already out of breath. Good.

Cas bobs his head slowly, using his tongue to taste as much as he can, gathering Dean’s pre-come so its flavor can grace his taste buds. Cas is absolutely addicted to the taste of Dean’s come. Which, again, is not surprising, since he’s addicted to pretty much anything Dean.

He knows this can’t last long – he didn’t go to all this trouble just to give Dean a blowjob, as much as he absolutely adores chocking on his boyfriend’s thick length – and he wants to make the most of it. His left hand starts rummaging between the cushions – having Dean’s dick in his mouth is heady enough that he’s had a moment of indecision, but no, what he’s looking for now is definitely on the left hand-side, the right hand-side was reserved for something else – in search for the lube. Once his fingers close around the bottle, he steals a few more sucks before he pulls off. He then drizzles a generous amount of lube on his palm and warms it up between his hands before spreading it on Dean’s cock. Their eyes are locked now, none of them seems able to look away from the other, and Cas can’t help but notice how golden Dean’s eyes look with the light of the twenty one candles – one for each month they’ve been together – illuminating his marvelous face.

Once he’s sure Dean’s cock is coated in lube root to tip, Cas straddles his lap again, circles it with one of his hands and lines it against his hole to start sinking down.

Dean’s hands tighten on his sides to arrest the motion immediately. “Baby, wait, you’ll hurt yourself!”

Cas loves this man so much. Every single cell of Cas’s body, soul and mind is in love with every single cell of Dean’s body, soul and mind. Always.

Cas shakes his head slightly and starts sinking down slowly, making Dean feel how readily his body opens up for him.

Dean’s gasp is answer enough, he’s already understood, but Cas still wants to say it out loud. “I won’t, I-, ah, I already opened myself up for you.”

Cas needs to close his eyes for a moment. He always does when he’s speared open on Dean’s dick, especially in this position. Riding Dean makes Cas feel every single inch of him more acutely than he does in any other position. It feels so _good_ , so _right_. This is where he belongs. Always.

Their combined moans are indication enough that Cas’s not the only one momentarily overwhelmed.

“Fuck, sweet baby, so tight. You did, eh? Opened yourself nice and slow for me?”

“Yeah. I took my time in the shower,” Cas couldn’t stop he roll of his hips for all the money in the world, he needs to feel the burn blending with the pleasure of the warmth and thickness of Dean’s cock inside of himself, needs to feel it rub against his prostate and send lighting through his whole body, “I went slow, and _deep_.”

“Fuck.”

“Precisely,” Dean’s laugh against his chest is _so them_ Cas’s hearts squeezes almost painfully, “I wanted to be fucked, Dean, I _needed_ it. I need you, always.”

One of Dean’s hands reaches for his neck, so Dean can make sure Cas is looking at him when he says, “You have me, Cas.”

“Always?”

“Always.”

Going back to kissing Dean and lose himself in him is the only choice now. All that Cas is and all that Cas wants is reduced to this moment, on this couch, with this man. Cas’s hands and arms are around his shoulders, their lips and tongues press and slide against each other, unable to stop, or pause, not even to breathe, Cas’s hips keep rocking back and forth, back and forth, so that Dean’s erection can slide a little deeper inside of him. Cas is keeping his eyes closed and focusing on perception. The feel of being split open on Dean’s cock, so big and warm in him, catching on Cas’s rim before filling him up to the brim again, the feel of his inner thighs rubbing against Dean’s legs, the wet slide of Dean’s mouth against his, the nibbles Dean’s teeth seem unable to help leaving behind, the puffs of the breath Dean inhales and exhales through his nose hitting Cas’s face and mingling with Cas’s own labored breath, Dean’s hands keeping a firm hold of Cas’s ass to keep him spread open and help guide the rocking of his hips. Cas feels so small, but also too big for his skin, lost in this endless onslaught of sensations. But he needs more, just a little more. He rearranges his legs until both of his feet are planted on the cushions and starts an up and down motion that allows him to get Dean impossibly deeper and his cock to brush against his prostate at every stroke. He can’t keep kissing Dean, his whole existence is zeroed on what’s inside of him. He lets his head fall forward, on top of Dean’s, and ignores the pain in his thigh muscles when he increases the speed of his hips, focusing on the pleasure of the going up and sinking down that’s bringing him closer and closer to the edge. Where Dean and Cas are joined is warmth and sweat and friction, and it’s the only thing Cas seems to be able to focus on. So when Dean tightens his arms around him and bites where his neck meets his shoulder, Cas has only a second to realize that he’s climaxing. He holds on Dean even tighter, keeping his head close against his chest and screams while his cock pulses between them untouched and his ass clenches around Dean and makes his cock feel even bigger inside of him.

He loses track of time and himself for a little. He knows he’s stopped any motion, he couldn’t have moved if he’d tried. He’s kept breathing, trying to get the working of his heart and of his lungs under control, and when he opens his eyes again and looks down, Dean’s kiss-swollen lips smiling back at him are the first thing he sees, so it’s only natural that he should kiss them.

Dean hasn’t come yet. He’s still hard inside of him and the sounds he was making before Cas lost coherent thought were not those Dean gifts Cas with when he comes.

“Keep fucking me, love.”

“Yeah?”

Cas nods shakily. “Please,” he steals a quick kiss for good measure, “I need you to come in me.”

Dean’s groan is related to Cas’s words more than to the effort of flipping them so they’re lying with Dean on top of Cas – Dean’s favorite position when he tops. Cas’s head is on the right-hand side of the couch now, as it’s usually the case when they fuck in missionary here. Cas has a moment to smile to himself and think that yes, dependability is great sometimes, and it’s sure coming in handy tonight. And then Dean lifts himself up on his left arm, rests his forehead against Cas’s and lines himself up. He enters him slowly, pushing in and pulling back a couple of times, and once he’s safely sheathed inside of Cas, Dean puts his right hand on Cas’s heart and starts rocking back and forth, pushing himself deeper and deeper inside of the man under him. His eyes are fixed on Cas’s, and Cas eyes can’t leave Dean’s. The green is almost gone now, so blown out are Dean’s pupils. The red on his cheeks is making the lovely freckles scattered under Dean’s eyes stand out even more. Their lips brush, they are breathing in each other’s mouths. Cas loves when that happens, when they are so lost in the moment that they don’t even have enough brain power to kiss, but still can’t make their mouths stay away from each other. Cas loves to know he’s the only one who can do this with Dean, and he wants to do this with Dean always.

Dean’s fucking him with slow, long, deep thrusts and Cas arches up when the pleasure is too much, and spreads his legs wider and rolls his hips down to meet every push of Dean’s hips against his ass. He’s come already, he’s oversensitive, he shouldn’t want more of this, but he does, he so does, he’s almost delirious with how much he needs to make this good for Dean. He needs Dean to want to do this with him always. Always.

When Dean picks up the pace and his rhythm starts to falter, when he starts being more vocal and tell Cas how good it feels to be inside of his tight ass, Cas knows he’s about to get filled up. He can’t help bringing a hand to his cock and stroking himself slowly. He won’t come, he knows he won’t, but that doesn’t mean that he can’t be greedy and take as much pleasure out of this as possible.

“Fuck, Cas, baby, I-“ and Dean’s coming, his cock kicking and pulsing inside of Cas, Dean’s head in the crook of Castiel’s neck, his teeth latched on Cas’s flesh stifling Dean’s cry and no doubt leaving a mark just like the one they have already left on the other side of Cas’s chest, Dean’s right hand gripping Cas’s left side tight enough to leave bruises. When the aftershocks come, Cas cherishes them. He’s the only one who can make Dean let go like that. He holds Dean to himself, feeling proud, and loved and sated and elated. And he wants to make Dean feel like that, and he wants to feel like that always.

Always.

So when Dean sighs his telltale sigh before starting to lift up so he can pull out, Cas puts both hands on his shoulders to stop him. “No, not yet, don’t pull out. I want you inside of me for this.” Ignoring Dean’s confused expression, Cas fishes for something hidden in between the cushions next to his head – dependability really _is_ a great thing – and presents a small velvet box to Dean. Dean is clearly in shock. His beautiful green eyes are huge and already shining with gathering tears, and his mouth is hanging open. Cas opens the box to reveal two black rings, each one with a leaf-shaped pattern. One of the leaves in Dean’s ring is covered in diamonds, while a stone fills the other leaf. The stone is blue, obviously. Just as obviously, one of the stones in Cas’s ring is green, while the other is white.

“I wanna be with you always, Dean. Always. Marry me.”

*****

“Mmm, the blue suit. Great choice. You look stunning, husband.”

“Dean, it’s been ten months since the wedding. Aren’t you tired of using that pet name yet?”

“Never.”

**Author's Note:**

> Here they are, what I headcanon [the perfect engagement rings](https://imgur.com/gallery/wrHOuZc) would be - I edited the pic to make the stones match the colors I wanted :-D


End file.
